On this day in 1903 my father was born. Were he alive, he would be 120 years old.

He died at the age of 77.

Although far too young in my mind, he far outlived expectations.

He was not expected to survive. There were no baby ICU’s in those days.

My grandmother heated her wood stove in the kitchen. She wrapped up my Dad and put him on the open oven door to keep him warm. He was the best Dad ever!

My grandmother died years before I was born. I look like her. I am very much looking forward to meeting her when my turn comes to be called home.